


What happens on Quesh sure as hell isn't gonna stay on Quesh.

by ardentlyThieving



Series: Sith Hobbies and Imperial Interests [1]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Crisis belongs to me, F/M, Krirc'ris'isarki, Quesh, Sith Warrior Spoilers, Za'ien, Za'ien belongs to my mate Sofa, agent pov, and also coz sofa drew a really cute arte of crisis with fangs and i squealed, chiss agent, chiss have fangs because i say so, decided to go for a suitably Dramatique moment, my first time writing fic for these two, or swtor in general, sith warrior story, swtor belongs to whoever the fuck swtor belongs to at this point, this is post the agent act 2 finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 19:35:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17587049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardentlyThieving/pseuds/ardentlyThieving
Summary: Za'i and Crisis get sent to Quesh to stop the Republic from blowing up a cavern below the main Imperial Base. Things go horribly wrong, as they usually do. Baras is a dick.





	What happens on Quesh sure as hell isn't gonna stay on Quesh.

Quesh. Crisis hated Quesh. There was the fact that she had no fond memories of this planet - being brainwashed would do that to you. There was the knowledge that the longer she spent on the surface the more toxic chemicals she was breathing in: even with the vaccine she didn’t exactly feel  _ safe _ . There was the constant, worn-down atmosphere hanging over every outpost. Finally, there was the cloying  _ heat _ , not as oppressive as on Tatooine, but far too close for her tastes. And yet, despite having sworn she would never willingly set foot on this planet again, here she was. Because you didn’t let your friends stroll into near-certain death alone, and Za’i, Za’i was more than a friend. 

 

Not that the Sith in question looked much happier than she felt. Accomplished Lord he might be, but every time Darth Baras told him to jump, he began sulking like a child. Which wasn’t  _ unjustified _ , but would it kill him to be a little more subtle about it? If he had to keep antagonising a member of the Dark Council, she told herself as they approached the cavern, she would quit.... Strongly consider quitting at any rate. Alright, maybe that was a little extreme, but she would definitely be expressing that he was welcome to do what he wanted with his own neck, but she’d appreciate it if he stopped putting hers on the line as well. And if she made sure to wait until he was tied down and desperate before bringing it up then, well, when it came to Sith you couldn’t be too subtle at getting your point across.

 

Loose stones skidded under their boots as they entered the cavern. Crisis could immediately feel, and appreciate, the drop in temperature. Some of the tension drained from her body as her stealth generator ignited with a quiet fizz. “I’ll scout ahe- or not,” she finished under her breath as Za’i flung himself directly at the first group, lightsabers igniting with a snap. She sighed, directly into the comms, as she made her way around the group, keeping low to the ground to avoid any stray blaster shots. Red light shot past her head, coming far too close for comfort. A scan of the dim cave revealed the sniper, lining up another shot on Za’i. She moved further to the side and ran towards him, still cloaked, allowing the noise of the battle to cover any noise she might make, and only revealed herself as she drove her vibroknife into the sniper’s back. She yanked it back out as he fell to the ground with a quiet gurgle of blood. 

 

As she rolled to take cover behind a rock, she re-assessed the situation, and was gratified to note that the rest of the Republic troops were too busy being cut down by Za’i’s double lightsabers to notice their compatriot’s death. For a moment she considered taking a shot with her charric, then decided the chances of hitting Za’i were far too high. And so she recloaked and flung herself into the melee, or what was left of it. 

 

A few moments later she sheathed the vibroknife, and surveyed the bodies on the floor, making sure none were preparing to fire off one last shot. Satisfied, she inclined her head toward Za’i. “Idiot.”

 

The Sith shrugged, infuriatingly casually, infuriatingly  _ attractively _ . “What? It worked, didn’t it?” A lazy grin spread across his face as her eyes flashed in response. “I knew you’d have my back.”

 

She folded her arms, wishing she was able to roll her eyes in a way he could pick up on. “You owe me for this, Za’i.”

 

He took a few steps closer, reached out with one hand to cup her chin and tilt her face up. “Have I ever told you how attractive you are when you’re pissed off and covered in blood?” he murmured, before he pressing his lips against hers.

 

Part of her wanted to melt into the kiss. She decided to indulge that part for a while, although she  _ did _ press her fangs into his lower lip juuust hard enough to let him know he wasn’t quite forgiven. The noise he made in response sent a wave of warmth through her that left her considering the pros of fucking in a cavern on Quesh. Not enough, she decided, and pulled away. “When we get back to the ship,” she told him, as he raised a hand to wipe away the thin trail of blood. 

 

He smirked down at her. “Are you sure you want to encourage me to keep charging on ahead?” he asked, before doing just that. Crisis cloaked up, and dashed after him.

 

\-------

 

As a team, they were brutally effective, and so they soon reached the end of the mine. Where, just as they had been told, were a group of Republic scouts who had just finished rigging up explosives, and were now pointing their blasters in their general direction. Most of them flinched as Za’i stepped forward. One, clutching a detonator in his hand, did not. She moved to flank him as Za’i addressed the group.

 

The man with the detonator glared at Za’i. “We knew this was a possibility. Sith, I’m prepared to detonate, even if it means we all die. You’ve just wandered into your own funeral. Throwing the switch.”

 

As he flipped up the detonator’s cover she yanked out her charric and fired. The bolt hit him in the arm. He let out a yell of pain, but slammed his thumb down on the button. She threw herself across the ground as…. Nothing happened.

 

“What?” the man asked. “No! Come on, detonate! Detonate!”

 

He groaned in frustration as she got back to her feet, keeping a tight grasp on her charric, but holding fire.

 

Za’i stood, arms crossed, and took a long, slow, glance around the cave. “Was something supposed to happen there?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. 

 

The man, evidently the commander of this group ignored him. “Men, hold the line! I’ll try a reset!” he barked.

His troops shuffled nervously. If Crisis had been Za’i she would’ve grinned in delight. As it was, she simply tucked her charric away and took a step forward. “Do you all  _ really  _ want to die so your Commander can possibly manage to crush you under a pile of rocks?”

 

The commander glared at her, before addressing his people. “You’ll be heroes of the Republic!”

 

She shrugged. “You’ll also be dead. And that’s assuming he manages to fix the detonator in time.” At this point she made a show of looking him up and down skeptically. “If I was in your place, I wouldn’t be putting my chances of heroism in his hands. So, counter offer. This plan has failed. Walk away now.”

 

They looked at her. They looked at their commander. They looked at Za’i. They considered what they knew about the Sith. Finally, one woman took a hesitant step forward. Then another, and another. Za’i stepped to the side. Eyes fixed firmly on him, she continued walking forward, before breaking into a run. The rest of the Republic soldiers, now reassured that there were no obvious tricks in her offer, followed. 

 

All except the commander, still slamming his thumb down on the button as if this would be the time it actually worked. Za’i slowly walked towards him. He looked up, his free hand going for his blaster. Before he could pull it out, Za’i’s hand shot up. The detonator fell to the ground as the commander’s hands moved to clutch at his throat, legs kicking in the air. His throat snapped with a sick crack as Za’i clenched his hand into a fist. Za’i released the body, which crumpled to the ground next to the detonator.

 

Crisis moved to stand beside Za’i as he pulled out his holocomm. Lord Draahg greeted them, smug as ever.

 

“Well well well. Well done. Mission accomplished, eh,” the Sith boomed, spreading his arms wide. 

 

Za’i’s voice was tight. “The threat is over.”

 

Draahg’s lips curved up in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “There never was a threat, friend.”

 

Crisis’ stomach lurched at that. “Za’i. We should go. Now.”

 

Both Sith turned their heads in her direction.  _ Now  _ Draahg’s smile reached his eyes. “I see the Cipher is with you. How,” he paused, “ _ Unfortunate _ .”

 

Her eyes flashed and she hissed at him, showing her fangs. He took a step back in mock fear. “And yet again she proves which one of you is smarter.” His hand came into view, revealing another detonator. “As she’s already figured out, this whole thing was an elaborate trap, devised by Baras, to remove you before you have the chance to rise against him.” The smile grew. “You were his fiercest. I consider it a privilege that he’s allowed me to pull the trigger.”

 

“Why don’t you face me yourself, instead of cowering away?” Za’i snapped.

 

The other Sith stroked his chin. “While the thought of personally beheading you is a delight, we’re leaving nothing to chance. So unless your alien pet wants to fight you for the chance to join us…” he paused, eyes fixed on Crisis’ face. She hissed at him again. “No? Too bad.” And with that he set off the explosions.

 

The pair had been heading to the exit of the cave from the beginning of Draahg’s speech, but not fast enough, as the roof began crumbling. The floor shook beneath them, as rocks started to fall. Small ones at first, but within seconds larger and larger. Crisis, a little ahead of Za’i began to accept that they weren’t going to make it out in time, when she went flying through the air. She glanced back to see Za’i, hand outstretched, throwing her with the Force, before he dropped to one knee and raised his hands above his head to shield himself with it. 

 

She hit the ground hard, rolled across it, and narrowly missed being crushed by a rock the size of her head. She struggled to her feet as rocks continued to slam down around her. Just on the other side of the cave, she spotted some mechanical equipment that she hoped was sturdy enough to protect her. Her hand went to her stealth generator, and she desperately overloaded it, propelling her forwards the last twenty metres. 

 

She slammed into the wall hard enough to knock the breath out of her. A second later her vision blurred as white hot pain flared up in her arm. She screamed, looking down to see a rock had been deeply embedded into her arm by the force of her collision. Her breaths came hard and fast as blood welled up around the rock and trickled down her arm. 

 

There was a loud slam as a rock crashed against her shelter. It creaked. She screamed again as it collapsed onto her leg, forcing her to the ground. Pain. Pain. Pain! She hovered on the edge of blacking out, digging her nails deeply into her hands in an effort to stay conscious. She looked at her arm and almost blacked out again from the sheer amount of blood flowing from the original wound, and where the rock had scraped against her arm on the way down. She tore at the buttons of her jacket with her good hand, and wrapped it as tightly over and above the injury as she could, using her teeth to tie it off. She gasped, getting her breath under control as well as she could. Dreading what she was going to find, she investigated her leg, and was relieved to find it pinned not broken. Then she realized that, with her arm in this condition that hardly mattered. She was trapped. And a faint crackle was all she could hear from her comms. As her situation fully dawned on her, the blood already starting to soak through her jacket, the pain reared up again and this time she blacked out.

 

\-------

 

She was floating. No, not floating. She was being carried. She was being carried, and there was a buzzing in the air, and her arm  _ hurt. _ She focused on the buzzing. Za’i. It was Za’i. Za’i was carrying her, and he was  _ angry.  _ “I’m going to kill Draahg, and tear Baras apart and I’ll cut down anyone who stands between me and him!” She wanted to ask what Baras had done this time, but now she was floating and her arm hurt so bad, and it was so, so much easier to give in and drift back to unconsciousness.

 

\-------

 

Crisis opened her eyes. She was on her back, in the Fury’s medical room, staring up at the ceiling. There was a steady beeping, and her arm ached. She looked at it first, and noted the kolto patch. She then turned her head to look in the direction of the beeping, and was distracted by Za’i, pacing and fuming. Za’i, and her arm, and Draahg, and the cavern, and Za’i surrounded by falling rocks and, “You’re alright!”

 

Almost immediately he was at her side. “I’m alright?” he repeated, and his tone was the most incredulous she’d ever heard. “Crisis, I’ve never seen Quinn look as concerned as he did when I brought you back. I don’t think,” his voice caught. “I don’t think he knew if he could save you, you’d lost so much blood.”

 

She tried to sit up, realized then how weak she was, and slumped back down on the bed. The, what she thought was guilt, on Za’i’s face deepened at that. She considered for a moment, then met his eyes directly. “Well. How are you going to make it up to me?” she purred. 

  
The  _ way  _ his eyes lit up set a rush of warmth through her, and she cursed Baras mentally for the fact that she was stuck in the medbay. “I guess when you’re feeling better I’ll have to show you.”


End file.
